


The Cucumber Incident

by dendriticgold



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M, Object Insertion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 16:43:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1435537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendriticgold/pseuds/dendriticgold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Object insertion and smut; tending more towards the amusing than the angsty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cucumber Incident

It was a question that needed answering.

Weeks of employing lips, tongues, palms and fingers, not to mention conveniently warm crevices, in an attempt to sooth the urges that flamed each time they were in a room alone together had left Thomas and Jimmy somehow  _more_  unsated than when they had begun. Which, considering the gravity of the sexual tension that had finally propelled them into action following years of skirting the issue, made for an almost unbearably frustrating situation.

For a long time it had been a matter of not ‘if’ but ‘when’ their sometimes sensual, often frantic, nocturnal activities would be taken to the ultimate conjunction. Penetration was, so to speak, in the air. And the time had most definitely come to discuss the logistics of making the notion a reality.

The trouble was, both men felt the answer to the question of whom would play the active role so self-evident that they didn’t recognise the issue needed addressing. For Jimmy’s part, his perception (and fierce protecting) of his own notions of traditional masculinity had him assuming unequivocally he would be ‘in the driving seat’. For Thomas, past precedent (no matter how dim a memory) combined with his superiority, in both age and position, had him equally certain that the answer to the question of dominance was obvious.

And when one is  _that_  sure of the answer to a question, there is really no need for discussion.

It wasn’t until after a few too many ‘accidental’ slips and probes during their naked rutting of an evening, the most vigorous of which had Thomas quite literally knocking Jimmy out of bed in surprise (something they both nervously laughed off in the immediate aftermath), that it became apparent the question badly needed to be addressed.

‘So what do you say to me properly taking care of you tonight?’ Thomas purred one evening, his lips brushing the shell of Jimmy’s ear as he spoke.

Underneath Thomas, thighs open just enough to allow Thomas to lie close between them, within the small, temporary, private world the two of them had created for one another under a large white bed sheet that was just thin enough to allow the lamp-light through, Jimmy reluctantly drew his face away from the sensation and scent of brushing his nose against Thomas’s hair to respond.

‘Tell me more…’ He said teasingly, running a single finger up the groove of Thomas’s spine, feeling the bed sheets brush gently over the back of his hand as he did so.

‘Oh…I’d much rather show you…’ Thomas whispered back, voice deep and needful, leaning down to kiss him.

Jimmy was momentarily too distracted by the pleasant sensation of errant strands of Thomas’s hair brushing against his cheek, ahead of the eagerly anticipated arrival of his lips, to notice that an errant hand had begun to work it’s way firmly up the inside of his thigh, pushing his leg open and upwards to enable Thomas to access increasingly sensitive and private places.

‘What? NO!’ Jimmy exclaimed, cracking his forehead against Thomas’s as he reflexively attempted to spring up into a sitting position to lend vigour to his protest.

‘Ow!’ Thomas raised himself up onto all fours, hand rubbing fiercely at his forehead with his eyes squeezed shut as he waited for the world to stop spinning. ‘Bloody hell Jimmy!’

 ‘Ugh…’ Jimmy moaned, dragging himself up to sit against the headboard of the bed, back of his hand pressed against his forehead. ‘I’m not doing particularly well myself.’ He retorted gingerly.

‘So what was that about?’ Said Thomas, tugging the sheet over himself as he curled up on his side at the foot of the bed, propping himself up with a bent elbow, face screwed up in an attempt to dispel the lingering throbbing in his skull.

‘I just…’ Jimmy began, retrieving one of the pillows from behind him to place defensively in his lap as he crossed his legs to save him having to bend down to the floor to grab at the discarded blankets strewn about the bed to give himself some semblance of dignity. ‘…I wasn’t expecting that.’

‘Sorry.’ Said Thomas, wincing for reasons that had nothing to do with his headache. ‘I thought you would be…open to it. You know, given everything else that we’ve been doing.’ He added mischievously, giving a wiggle of his eyebrows that drew a chuckle from Jimmy despite the sensitive nature of the issue.

‘It’s just…’ Jimmy tried again. ‘…I thought I was going to be the one to…’ He indicated vaguely in Thomas’s direction. ‘… _you know_.’

Thomas stared at him, confused, for a moment before realisation dawned on his face.

‘Oh you mean…?’

‘Yes.’ Said Jimmy matter of factly, rolling his eyes at how long it had taken Thomas to grasp what, to him, was perfectly obvious. ‘I should be the one leading.’

Despite knowing with absolute certainty that it was not the appropriate thing to do under such circumstances; Thomas threw back his head in raucous laughter.

‘What’s so bloody funny?’ Jimmy demanded, frowning darkly at Thomas (who had to work quite hard to restrain himself from darting forwards to bite at Jimmy’s pouting lower lip).

‘Well, not being funny or anything, but I’m older than you…more experienced…’ Said Thomas slowly, still grinning in jest in an attempt to keep things light; having learnt the hard way that quelling Jimmy’s grumps was generally best achieved by refusing to indulge them.

‘All the more reason for you to be the one with your legs open!’ Jimmy countered, balking a little at his own crudeness, but feeling the stakes were sufficiently important to justify it. ‘ _You_  know what to expect.’

‘Not like that I don’t!’ Thomas exclaimed, mentally storing up the adorable sight of a sulking, naked, Jimmy fiercely hugging a pillow across his torso for later use. ‘I’m always the man.’

The look on Jimmy’s face had Thomas realising within a split second that he had chosen the absolute worst possible way of expressing the sentiment.

‘Not that to be the one…receiving…makes you any less of a…’ Thomas frantically backtracked as Jimmy’s face turned a deep scarlet colour.

‘I’ll not be  _receiving_  anything.’ Jimmy choked out, his chest heaving against the pillow he clutched tightly to his front.

‘Well…’ Thomas sighed, turning over onto his back with his knees bent, to stare at the ceiling as he pensively rubbed his mouth, biting back the initial ‘ _You’ll_  certainly not be giving anything to me’ response that hovered on the tip of his tongue in favour of a more mature and helpful response. ‘…what if we take turns? I don’t suppose I’d mind too much…’ Thomas lied through his teeth; his sense of pride minding  _very_  much, but his desire for closeness with the man sitting at the other end of the bed (which might as well have been a broad chasm for all the likelihood that there would be contact between either of them in the near future) urging him onwards. ‘…and then we could both learn together.’

Caught off guard by Thomas’s unexpected concession, the scowl abruptly fell off Jimmy’s face.

‘You would do that?’ Said Jimmy, staring slightly to the side of Thomas’s head as he turned towards him, eyes glazed over as he internally puzzled out the catch in that particular scenario; no matter how vigorous his commitment to being dominant for the sake of masculinity, Jimmy found his sensibilities willing to at least think on the notion of being on  _equal_  footing with Thomas as regards to the logistics of their developing physical relationship.

‘For you I could give it a go.’ Said Thomas with a smile, surprised at the degree to which he found himself actually believing in the statement. ‘So what do you think?’ Said Thomas, leaning across the bed to swipe at Jimmy’s foot with his fingers.

Fearful of tickling, something Thomas was increasingly prone to those days, Jimmy quickly drew his foot in closer towards his body and gave a playful snarl before responding.  

‘I suppose ‘a go’ could be given.’ He said with teasing reluctance, unable to keep from smiling back at Thomas.

‘A  _very_  wise decision, Mr Kent.’ Drawled Thomas as he began to crawl back up the bed. ‘Now how about we go back to how we were before that little interruption, eh?’

He reached down, hands sliding briefly along the outside of Jimmy’s thighs before turning to the task of extracting the pillow and simultaneously coax Jimmy’s crossed legs into a more open and inviting position.

‘Whoa!’ Jimmy exclaimed, attempting to back away but finding the headboard annoyingly unyielding. ‘Who says you get to go first?’

Thomas sat back on his heels with a deep sigh, suspecting that the response ‘Because  _I_  should’ wouldn’t get him anywhere, and utterly certain that neither he nor Jimmy were going to be getting any that night.

He was correct.

And to Thomas and Jimmy’s chagrin, the ‘correctness’ lasted for over a week.

They were perfectly fine with one another during the day, the banter and gossip continued as before.

But at night there was a sense of sadness and estrangement.

Even something so innocent as a goodnight smile as they both went their separate ways in the servant’s corridor, let alone a surreptitious kiss, was rendered impossible in the ensuing awkwardness; neither man wanting their affection to be perceived as either a concession to the point, or worse, as a means of manipulative coercion to bring the other man around.

Any action below the neck area was decidedly out of the question.

The situation was utterly untenable.

Just over a week later, as he stared wistfully at an array of phallic shaped (‘phallic’ at least as far as perceived in his intimacy starved brain) vegetables on the kitchen table, Thomas realised with a start that some kind of insanity had well and truly set in.

He shook his head, mentally berating himself, wondering whether Mrs Patmore might consent to donate a carrot for him to chew on to distract himself while they waited for the stock take in the store room to be completed.

He almost laughed out loud as his eyes settled on the stack of cucumbers lying beside the carrots; imagining the look on Mrs Patmore’s face should he ask her to peel one of  _those_  for him to chew on.

‘God I’d look a bit inelegant trying to get my mouth round that.’ Thomas thought to himself, raising an eyebrow in disdain at the girth of the cucumber at the top of the pile. ‘Better to stick with a carrot…’

But he found his gaze inexplicably lingering on the former; on the fifteen or so inches of length, the smooth shiny surface, the nub of a stalk which could be easily removed to make  _both_  ends rounded (‘For what?’ He asked himself. ‘Why would it matter that…?’), the girth that was just about equivalent to a…

‘Oh my God.’ Said Thomas, loudly.

‘Everything alright, Mr Barrow?’ Said Ivy, arranging bowls on the kitchen table ready to deposit the vegetables in once chopped.

‘Um…’ Thomas faltered. ‘Nothing. I mean…yes, everything’s fine.’

He walked up the stairs that evening in a daze, utterly scandalised by his own brain, musing that he hadn’t had such a foolish and ridiculous idea since sneaking out of the house with Isis in tow years earlier.

He walked into his bedroom and immediately lit up a cigarette, thinking he might as well fully relive the ridiculousness of having a cigarette dangling from his mouth while almost petrified in horror at having stolen something that he dearly hoped  _no one_  would ever find out about.

He let the cucumber he had secreted fall out of his sleeve and onto the bed and stood staring at it for some time, wondering.

The sound of Jimmy’s bedroom door clicking shut in the corridor outside spurred him into action.

‘Jimmy?’ He whispered, knocking on the door as loudly as he dared.  

‘Thomas?’ Said Jimmy, a surprised and slightly wary look on his face as he opened the door.

‘Would you mind coming to my room for a bit? I have something I want to…talk to you about. Now don’t be getting too excited…’ He quickly added upon seeing the spark of hope in Jimmy’s eyes, the latter clearly as keen to see an end to the stalemate as he was. ‘…I just want to talk about…’ Thomas trailed off, finding no words adequate to express the strangeness that awaited the other side of his bedroom door. ‘Will you just come, please?’ He said sheepishly.

Jimmy nodded, slowly, consenting to follow Thomas wordlessly across the corridor to his room with a highly perplexed look on his face.

 ‘What…’ Said Jimmy, instantly spying the out-of-place object on Thomas’s bed upon entering the room. ‘…is  _that_?’

Thomas restrained himself from offering up the obvious answer of the name of the object itself, knowing full well that wasn’t what Jimmy was asking.

‘ _That_  is what I want to talk to you about.’ Said Thomas tentatively, unable to wipe the guilty grimace off his face in time to conceal it from Jimmy. ‘I thought it might…’ Thomas shrugged, because there really wasn’t anything else to do under the circumstances. ‘…be a solution to our…problem.’

Thomas hadn’t thought it possible for Jimmy’s eyes to get any wider, but he was rapidly proved wrong.

‘You…’ Jimmy said, looking from him to the cucumber then back again as though unsure whether he should be questioning his own sanity or Thomas’s. ‘… _What_?’

Thomas couldn’t find anything to say, so he shrugged again.

‘You mean to use  _that_  as…?’ Jimmy questioned, peering at him in shock. When it became apparent that Thomas had completely lost the ability to vocalise for the present Jimmy continued. ‘Did you…bring two?’ He said incredulously, shaking his head in disbelief at both the situation and the fact he was engaging with it at all, however superficially, rather than simply running back to his own room to sit, traumatised, and stare at the wall for several hours.

‘I…’ Thomas said softly. ‘…thought we could share. Do it together so that no one’s…’ He intended to say something along the lines of ‘ashamed’ or ‘embarrassed’, but decided that he couldn’t in good conscience make that particular statement when referring to the notion of inserting one of Mrs Patmore’s ingredients up one’s backside. ‘So we both loose face together.’ Thomas said with a weak laugh, looking to Jimmy to somehow save him from himself.

‘How would we…?’ Jimmy said, his mind unable (or more likely, unwilling) to puzzle out the conundrum. ‘…OH!’

‘It’s just a thought.’ Thomas offered lamely

‘Is that actually…I mean, do people actually  _do_  that…with that?’ Said Jimmy, transfixed by the object on the bed. To Thomas’s relief, he seemed more perplexed than outraged; something Thomas was highly grateful for, given that he was suddenly hit with the realisation that should any one of his previous sexual partners have dug out a cucumber, or similar, and suggested the same he would have most likely excused himself immediately from the room in question and remarked that they knew where to stick it. But when he thought of doing it with Jimmy, somehow it was different.

‘I can’t be the only one whose recognised the potential.’ Thomas joked nervously.

Jimmy looked down at the shape of the cucumber. ‘No, I suppose not.’ He concurred with a laugh.

‘Well…’ Thomas’s hands briefly raised themselves from his sides before coming back down with a slap against his thighs. ‘…if nothing else…’ He said in the ensuing silence. ‘…I hope this little bit of insanity demonstrates how much I’m missing spending time with you of an evening.’

‘I miss you too.’ Jimmy said softly, not quite able to meet his eyes as he did so. ‘I’m sorry that I can’t just get my head around the idea of letting you…’ He rolled his eyes. ‘…you know.’

‘To be fair…’ Said Thomas, tentatively walking over to Jimmy to place a decidedly platonic hand on his shoulder. ‘…I’m being just as stubborn.’

Jimmy smiled weakly at that, bringing up a hand to rest over Thomas’s at his shoulder, interlocking their fingers.

‘This really is a problem, isn’t it?’ Said Jimmy sadly.

‘Yes.’ Thomas agreed ruefully, moving in closer to draw Jimmy into a hug. ‘And I can’t quite believe that this is the only solution I can think of…’

He felt himself relax somewhat at the feeling of Jimmy chuckling against his chest.

Jimmy pulled back a little, looking pensively up at Thomas for a moment before reaching a hand up to stroke the back of Thomas’s neck; a gesture, Thomas had learned, that was almost always the prelude to a beg for a kiss.

Lowering his head he found Jimmy’s lips pressed comfortingly against his own as soon as the height difference had corrected itself enough to allow it.

They moved slowly, sharing the warmth and wetness of their mouths with one another as though they had all the time in the world. And Thomas supposed they had really, as he mused on the fact that in that moment he could quite happily forgo the delights of sodomy if Jimmy would only promise to kiss him each and every day for the rest of their…

Jimmy unexpectedly broke away. ‘Let’s try.’ He said.

Thomas stared at him in surprise.

Jimmy reached to pluck the cucumber up from the bed sheets, internally laughing at it as much as himself. ‘So, what do we need to do?’ He said matter of factly.

And that is how (once Thomas had recovered from his shock and gotten over the realisation of what Jimmy’s acquiescence meant on his part) the two of them came to be kneeling opposite one another on the floor, slowly undressing one another, trading light kisses as they each grappled with the idea of what was to come next.

‘We…what’s…?’ Jimmy exclaimed as he withdrew his inexplicably sticky hand from the bundle of Thomas’s clothes after adding the final few items to the mix.

‘Oh, that must be the butter.’ Said Thomas, rummaging around to find the small foil wrapped slab that he had slipped into his pocket (shortly after slipping the cucumber up his sleeve) earlier that day.

‘And why do you have butter in your pocket?’ Said Jimmy, managing to pull off a convincing look of judgemental disdain despite being naked and on his knees.

‘Why do you think you numpty?’ Said Thomas, taking a hold of Jimmy’s wrist to direct his butter smeared fingers towards his lips. He paused to gently suck at them before continuing. ‘It goes with the cucumber.’

‘Butter?’ Said Jimmy flatly, sliding his fingers playfully past Thomas’s lips once his wrist was released a further time before letting his hand drop to his side. He tried not to be distracted by the appreciative purring the motion invoked as Thomas used his tongue to its full potential during the brief moment to ensure Jimmy’s fingers didn’t leave unsatisfied.

‘It’s not perfect.’ Thomas admitted. ‘I do have some other stuff, but there’s not much of it you see. And we’re going to need  _a lot_.’ He said, looking gingerly down at the cucumber idling innocently on the rug beside them.

‘You’re not doing wonders for my nerves right now, Mr Barrow. Just so you know.’ Said Jimmy cheekily; albeit with a rather white face.

‘Mr Barrow?’ Said Thomas in amusement. ‘Oh I’ve got your Mr Barrow…’ He shuffled forwards a little on his knees, grabbing Jimmy’s backside firmly with both hands to tug him towards him, bringing their kneeling bodies upright and flush up against one others; groins, bellies and chests aligned and pressed pleasantly together.

‘Scandalous.’ Jimmy whispered teasingly against his lips.

‘So…’ Said Thomas slowly, retrieving the butter. ‘…you’re going to need some of this. And so am I.’

‘I think you’re actually mad.’ Said Jimmy with a snort as he copied Thomas’s actions; rubbing his fingers into the rapidly melting butter.

‘Right now I’m inclined to agree.’ Said Thomas with a playful smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘So…um…I’ll do you…’ He said, moving his hand around to hover just away from the skin at the small of Jimmy’s back in preparation for a more southwards journey. ‘…and I suppose you do me.’

‘Are you sure about this Thomas?’ Said Jimmy, running his thumb (the only part of his hand not currently swathed in butter) over the curve of Thomas’s buttock. ‘You don’t seem very…happy. I mean, I do see that you are used to being in control and all that…’ He said, biting at his lip.

Thomas gave a nervous laugh. ‘It’s just new territory, that’s all. Now…’ He cleared his throat. ‘…are we going ahead with this or not?’

Jimmy glanced sideways at the cucumber. ‘Much as I hate to point this out, doesn’t that look a little…wider…than…um…?’ He glanced down between them towards their nestled penises.

Thomas laughed, more convincingly this time, darting his tongue out to lick briefly at Jimmy’s pouting lips before replying. ‘Well I’ve got something you’re welcome to practice on if you’d rather build up to it…’ He teased.

Jimmy huffed at Thomas’s cheek before offering a challenging grin as he responded to the jest by running his fingers quickly and unexpectedly down the cleft of Thomas’s backside, immediately sliding a finger inside upon finding his target.

Both Thomas and Jimmy’s breath caught in their throats at the same time, the joviality of the moment temporarily suspended as they each took in the significance of the moment.

In the ensuing silence, after answering Jimmy’s fearful look with a small nod to indicate that he  _was_  alright after the rather abrupt escalation of events, Thomas took it upon himself to initiate a deep kiss; a kiss he neatly used for cover to enable him to regain some ground by slipping his finger (deliberately selecting the middle one, for added reach) into Jimmy.

This was followed by another pause, briefer this time, for each of them to take stock of the situation, breathing heavily against one another’s mouths, before properly commencing the all-consuming task of exploring and opening with increasingly bold probes of first one, then several fingers; measuring their success in the gasps and twitches of the mouth of the other as their lips remained touching throughout, their erections rolling against each other between their pressed stomachs as their hips became steadily more mobile at the alien, but undeniably pleasant, stimulation.

‘God I could do this all night.’ Jimmy breathed against Thomas’s mouth.

Thinking on Jimmy’s words (at least as far as the current distractions  _allowed_  him to indulge in rational thought) Thomas was surprised to find that he didn’t agree. Not at all.

The notion of ‘more’ was becoming less a potential prospect and more an ardent need as he leaned repeatedly into Jimmy’s fingers as they stretched him, in moves that were carefully copied from the way  _he_ was currently tending to Jimmy, desperately arousing him and spurring him to (quite unexpectedly) want more.

‘We should do it now.’ Thomas choked out, both to avoid losing his nerve and as a desperate effort to avoid tipping over the plateau of arousal into the point of no return.

‘Alright.’ Jimmy whispered huskily, licking his lips to renew some of the moisture lost during the frantic gasping of a few moments previous.

Thomas hungrily added his own tongue to the mix, setting off a fierce wrestling of lips and tongue before pulling reluctantly away.

‘We’re going to have to turn around.’ He said softly, unable to muster much by way of volume in his breathless state.

Jimmy nodded, mind and skin too hazy and hot to query the instruction, shuffling inelegantly on his knees to face away from Thomas; lowering his upper body to bring himself down on all fours.

Aware of the urgency of the moment, the need to capitalise on the relief from pain and awkwardness that their potent arousal would bring, Thomas nevertheless allowed himself a moment to admire the view; making a point of vigorously attending to the task of buttering up their green accompaniment to hide the fact he was staring. He had hoped to one day be party to this particular view for so long that he felt fully justified in staring, even though the circumstances were not  _quite_  what he had hoped or anticipated.

He found that the circumstances actually heightened his feelings of affection rather than diminishing them; it was one thing to have a lover on all fours, knees spread and ready, but another entirely to have a lover in such a position who genuinely trusted that the opportunity would  _not_  be capitalised upon.

Thomas spun about on his knees and backed up as close to Jimmy as he dared, feeling the sensuality of the moment somewhat abating as a wave of embarrassment swept over him at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

‘You might want to take hold of…your end.’ Thomas said, grimacing at the floorboards, feeling his sweat slicked stomach growing cold at the absence of Jimmy’s warm torso.  

‘Oh dear God…’ Jimmy said with a shaky laugh. ‘…this is absurd.’ He said as he reached behind him to grasp the end of the cucumber that Thomas was holding awkwardly between them.

‘My thoughts exactly.’ Said Thomas, taking a deep breath as he positioned it at his entrance, a finger extended to help guide the way in for the initial (nervously anticipated) push.

‘Remind me. Why are we doing this?’ Said Jimmy, fist balled tightly around the cucumber as he shifted back further to close the gap, leaving no daylight between Thomas, the cucumber, and himself.

‘Because we’re both stubborn…ah…’ As Thomas shifted his knees further apart to bring the level of his hips more akin to Jimmy’s he felt the tip of the cucumber sliding a little too far for comfort past the muscles doing their best to impede it’s progress. But he let it happen, reminding himself that that  _was_  the goal. ‘…stubborn, stubborn, bastards.’

Holding his breath, despite knowing it was absolutely the worst thing he could do at that moment, Thomas endeavoured to drive the cucumber more convincingly past the uncomfortable feeling of resistance inside him. Thinking it might help, he tried arching his back as he pushed back onto it, his hand holding it firmly in place, but would up exclaiming sharply in pain.

‘Jesus Thomas! Are you…?’ Jimmy craned his head back over his shoulder in an attempt to establish what had happened. ‘You’ve got it in already? Bloody hell, give a man a chance!’

‘I have. And when you do, just…’ Thomas struggled for air. ‘…be careful.’

Still gripping the cucumber firmly, Jimmy attempted to back onto it. He achieved nothing save for a yelp from Thomas.

‘I can’t…’ Jimmy grunted in frustration.

‘Christ…’ Thomas panted, face screwed up and red, every muscle in his body tense. ‘…try to…try to hold yourself open…when you try.’

‘Right.’ Said Jimmy.

The following silence, marked by the occasional maddening twist of the cucumber, alerted Thomas to the fact that Jimmy was evidently having a hard time grappling with the logistics of his instruction.

‘Oh that’s fine…’ He said sarcastically. ‘…take your time. I’ll just wait here…’

‘I don’t  _know_  what I’m doing Thomas!’ Jimmy retorted, speaking in the slightly higher pitch of voice that usually heralded a powerful tantrum; and  _that_  Thomas most definitely didn’t have time for.

‘You stay where you are.’ Thomas said, forcing his voice back to a more mature and helpful tone, swallowing heavily; already regretting what he was about to say next. ‘And I’ll try to push towards you. Alright?’

‘Alright.’ Said Jimmy, sounding anything but.

‘Right.’ Said Thomas, steeling himself. ‘Try to think of bearded women.’

‘What?…OW!’ Distracted into momentarily relaxing, Jimmy suddenly found himself stretched around the first inch or so of something that felt about three times as wide as the cucumber he had been grasping a moment ago. ‘Bloody…FUCK…stop, stop, stop.’ He exclaimed.

Thomas did, unable to resist a tiny smile at his success despite the cost to his own innards in shoving the cucumber back firmly enough to broach into Jimmy’s.

‘Can you stop!?’ Jimmy demanded again.

‘Stop what?’ Said Thomas, twisting his head around awkwardly to look back at Jimmy.

‘Moving!’ Jimmy said, glaring over his shoulder with a face like thunder. ‘Stop moving!’

‘Jimmy, all I’m doing right now is breathing. And I’ll not be giving that up any time soon.’

‘But I can feel…’ Jimmy turned his hang his head back down towards the floor. ‘…everything.’

‘Well that is rather the  _point_.’ Thomas offered grumpily, closing his eyes in relief at the brief moment of tranquillity despite the strange sensations at his rear.

The moment was dramatically shattered by Jimmy firmly shunting his hips backwards.

‘Ow!’

‘Ouch! Bloody…’

They both cried out, Thomas at the unexpected manner of Jimmy’s retort, Jimmy at the degree to which giving Thomas a taste of his own medicine also affected him.

Jimmy started laughing first, closely followed by Thomas; the two of them alternating at laughing at the hilarity of the situation and grunting at the discomfort caused by the resulting vibrations in their bodies as each and every tiny movement the other made was magnified inside the other man.

‘Shhhh! Shhhh!’ Jimmy quickly hissed between giggles and winces. ‘Do you want Carson to come running in here?’

‘Well thank God we’re doing this with a cucumber…’ Thomas said, doing his best to quell his laughter. ‘…because not even an arse like yours could keep me hard after a comment like that!’

‘I’m serious!’ Jimmy attempted to assert, failing utterly due to the uncontrollable shaking of his shoulders betraying the laughter he was working so hard to suppress.

‘Come on. Let’s try and do this properly now, eh?’ Said Thomas.

Jimmy took a few deep breaths, breaths that Thomas felt in the changing angle of their ‘toy’ as Jimmy’s back and hips swayed along with them, before responding.

‘Alright. Together.’

The silence in the room weighed heavily on the eardrums as the two of them moved slowly towards one another, one fraction of an inch at a time, each man glad of their respective positions (i.e. facing  _away_  from one another) due to the highly unflattering facial contortions that the feelings in their rears invoked.

‘I don’t think I can go any further.’ Jimmy finally blurted out.

Thomas nodded vigorously, despite knowing Jimmy couldn’t see him. ‘Me neither. Let’s just go from here and see how we do…’ He said, pulling himself forwards to release some of the length of the cucumber from it’s reluctant sheath.

Jimmy followed suit.

‘Oh…’ Thomas was as shocked as Jimmy at the wanton noise that ejected itself from his throat at the unexpectedly good sensations caused by he and Jimmy moving slowly in tandem, each tugging the intrusion away from the other.

‘God…’ Jimmy concurred, not waiting for instruction before proceeding to slide back again; eyes rolling back into his head both at what he was doing to himself and what the noises behind him told him he was doing to Thomas.

‘Uh!’ Thomas gave up trying to keep a handle on his vocalisations as he attended to the much more important matter of bearing back onto the shared cucumber to enable the two of them to repeat the whole manoeuvre.

With each repetition, tentative awkwardness steadily gave way to wanton abandon as their movements became increasingly firm and frantic.

It was a surprise to both when their buttocks unexpectedly met, but they were too far gone to muse too much on the occurrence; save to appreciate the evidence that they were both  _very_  committed to the task at hand.

Shoulders straining as they pushed back and then back again, mouths open, breaths alternating between non-existent and euphorically deep (lightheaded to the point of drunkenness), repeatedly teetering on the brink of orgasm but unable to achieve finality save for a pleasant undulation of their lower muscles (and not minding one bit), minds aflame with thoughts of what the other was experiencing (just for them), and a feeling of fullness unlike any they had experienced before; they continued long past the point of feeling rubbed raw.

It was only at the point where Jimmy’s arms actually gave out, drawing a shout from Thomas at the dramatic change in angle as Jimmy collapsed forwards onto the floor, that they consented to cease.

All but unable to move, his entire body tingling and unsteady, Thomas forced himself to tend to the task of extracting the cucumber before screwing up the last of his strength to bring himself down to collapse beside Jimmy on the floor.

Facing one another on their sides, not caring one bit about the cold, hard, floor beneath them, Thomas’s hand found Jimmy’s shoulder as Jimmy’s hands came to rest against Thomas’s chest.

No energy for a kiss, they rested their foreheads together; falling asleep as they were.

 

EPILOGUE

‘You know…’ Said Thomas to Jimmy the next night. ‘…I’m willing to let you get between my legs. You know, if it  _really_  means that much to you.’

‘Oh no, Thomas!’ Said Jimmy. ‘I couldn’t have you doing something that makes you uncomfortable.  _I’ll_  go underneath.’

‘No, really. It’s no trouble at all…’

‘No, no. I’m younger, and less important, I’ll take it as I should.’

‘But I’m more experienced, so really  _I_  should be the one on the bottom. At least for now.’

‘That’s very noble of you Thomas, and I appreciate it. But I think it’s best if I…’ Jimmy paused, frowning as Thomas jumped up off the bed.

‘Where are you going?’

Thomas fished around in the pocket of his discarded jacket for a moment before abruptly turning back to Jimmy; coin resting on his outstretched palm.

‘Heads or bloody Tails?’


End file.
